


Back to Square One

by The_KLF



Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demming Schlemming, F/M, Fix It Fic, season 2 fix, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_KLF/pseuds/The_KLF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Lou: When Demming asks Castle if there's something between him and Beckett, Castle doesn't say no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back to Square One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkyCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkyCoffee/gifts).



Castle’s just about to follow Beckett out of the conference room when Demming holds him back. He’s surprised when it’s to ask his intentions towards the captivating detective. It pisses him off. Demming’s barely been around five minutes and it feels like he’s back to square one with Beckett.

_Ugh_.

He scrambles for a response, technically unable to say there’s something going on between them, but unable to directly state it. After all, shouldn’t the lady herself be asked first?

“Listen, Demming… I, uh… we…”

“Oh. Right, okay. You’re keeping it quiet?”

Something like that.

“Hm.”

The detective nods, averting his eyes from the writer, and Castle is pleased to see him humble for once.

“Well, good luck,” Demming says as he gets up and leaves. Castle sits and watches him go, and it’s all he can do to not let his jaw drop in surprise.

“That was easy…” he mumbles to himself. He starts tidying up the papers on the conference room table barely looking at what he’s doing because he’s just realised what he’s done.

If Demming backs off suddenly, she’ll be hurt. And it’ll all be Rick’s own stupid fault.

_Shit_.

* * *

By the time he catches up with Beckett, she’s already made it home. He stands outside her apartment and hears the chime of her keys in the metal bowl on the dresser by the door, wishing he’d brought some wine or flowers or… something. His hands have nothing to do except mess up his hair.

He knocks.

The clack of her heels comes closer, and the lock clicks. The door opens a fraction, just enough for her to peer through the crack with one eye. Just enough for him to see her surprise, and the pleasant flush to her cheeks she can’t hide with her fake annoyance. She opens the door a little further and raises an eyebrow at him.

“What happened to your hair?”

He laughs, glances at his shoes nervously and sticks his hands in his pockets before his gaze returns to her face. “Just, uh… nothing. It always looks like this at the end of the day.” Her eyes narrow for a moment and he knows what that smirk means. She likes it when he looks less perfect, more real.

“So, uh, what’re you doing here, Castle?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Could I come in for a minute? Please?”

She regards him for a beat before swinging the door wide open. “Sure.” She stays where she is, observing him enter her home. He stands opposite her in the lobby, a respectable distance away, and returns his hands to his pockets and his eyes to the floor after having closed the door behind him.

He doesn’t remember being this nervous in years.

“So, uh…” “I was-…”

He laughs in that self-deprecating way he only lets out around his family and he sneaks a glance at her to see her pursing her lips in amusement.

“After you, Beckett.”

“Just wondering what brought you to my neighbourhood.”

Straight to the point it is, then.

“Actually, I was hoping that maybe you were free this evening, but if not, that’s okay too, I mean, uh…” He sees a tiny frown crease her forehead, and decides to forge ahead. “What I mean to say is, Beckett… Kate… I would like to take you for dinner, and is tonight convenient for you?” Her face is slack with surprise. “Or we could maybe go when this case is closed if you’d prefer, I wouldn’t want to impose on any mid-case evening routines you might have.”

His mouth is somehow not getting the message from his brain to shut up, but Beckett is smiling now, all sparkling eyes and bottom lip pulled between teeth, and it’s the sight of her pleasure that pulls him up short.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

He clears his throat and tries to get some saliva into his arid mouth.

“Uh, yeah… Yeah, I guess I am.”

“And what would you have in mind for this date?”

“Well, um…” he scratches the scruff on his chin, rough from the hours in the precinct, thinking carefully before he lays out the plan. “Dinner at a quiet place a few blocks away, maybe a night cap at a bar, and then I’d walk you home.” He watches Beckett consider it for a few seconds.

They might be the longest few seconds of his entire life.

Finally, she looks to him with a smile and nods once. “Sounds good. I’m in.”

His jaw slackens for a moment before he snaps it shut, a plan suddenly forming in his head. “Okay, do you want time to get ready? I can come pick you up in half an hour.”

She picks her keys out of the bowl she dropped them into barely five minutes before. “Nah, let’s go now.”

* * *

What she won’t ever tell him is how the burgundy of the shirt he’d worn at work all day really made his lips look even more luscious than usual, and she’s spent the whole evening trying to _not_ stare at them.

The Italian restaurant they ended up in is, in fact, the same one that delivers her favourite carbonara when she has a craving for it, so the owner, Luigi, spares her no embarrassment when he comes over to their table and demands an introduction to “Signorina Kate’s new boyfriend”. She replies in her schoolgirl Italian, and laughs when she notices Castle’s amazement. And when the check comes he’s gracious enough to not let his chivalry get the better of him. They split it.

As they walk out of the restaurant, he holds the door for her and slips her hand into his as she walks through it. It’s so comfortable and natural that they’re halfway down the block before she realises. She looks away to hide her blush, certain he saw it anyway.

He sees all of her, doesn’t he?

She covers her mouth as she yawns widely and he squeezes her hand. “Take a rain check on that drink?” She just smiles and nods in reply. The rest of the walk is spent in a content silence, but all soon they’re back to her building and she’s wishing for just another few minutes.

“Want to come up for a drink?”

She looks up at him, his eyes meeting hers and she realises she doesn’t want to look away, could quite happily study his blue irises for at least the next six hours. Except she needs sleep. And he can tell.

“No, thank you. You need to get some rest before you spend the morning scrubbing surveillance tapes with Demming.” The smile that had seemed permanently etched on all evening fades. She’d forgotten about that. He lets go of her hand and her smile droops even more.

“I’ll bring your coffee in first thing.”

Her face suddenly lights up with a beatific smile, she can feel the way her cheeks ache with it. She doesn’t remember the last time someone else made her smile like this. She realises she doesn’t care either, so long as he’s there to prompt it every day.

On a whim, she reaches her hands up to rest on his shoulders and leans in to press her smile to his cheek, letting it turn into a lingering feather-light caress of her lips on his stubble. She feels his breath hitch and his hands gingerly moving to her waist, his eyelashes fluttering over the tip of her nose as she pulls away.

He breathes out, her name exhaled on a sigh.

“Tomorrow, Castle,” she whispers, her voice full of promise even as she steps away to let herself into the building’s lobby.

She walks backwards to the elevator, watching him open his eyes like he’s waking from the most blissful dream imaginable.

Perhaps he is.


End file.
